


Keep the Pizza, Send the Delivery Guy

by Coconutice22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Author Castiel, Bad Puns, Bottom Dean, College Student Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gardener Dean Winchester, Light BDSM, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pool Boy Dean Winchester, Puns & Word Play, Spanking, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, destiel au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 19:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14026812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coconutice22/pseuds/Coconutice22
Summary: Castiel's a frustrated writer who’s crushing hard on his pool boy – not that he’d ever admit it, mostly because that would mean he'd have to realize he had a crush to begin with.





	Keep the Pizza, Send the Delivery Guy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lovelies of the ProfoundBond Discord group! *hides head* I'm sorry for what you are about to witness. 
> 
> I haven't had this beta read, but if you do see any glaring errors please feel free to drop me a line on tumblr and I'd be thankful for the input, especially on American English mess-ups, of which I'm sure I've made a few.

"Dean, you want to do my gardening as well?" Castiel had his phone on loudspeaker so he could eat breakfast while talking to Dean. It was practically second nature to him now to use the loudspeaker when the phone call involved Dean. He found it useful to ensure he had both hands free on such ocassions.

Dean was an excellent pool boy, or pool cleaner as Castiel kept reminding himself was the correct term. If he'd known Dean also did gardening, he would have never placed the ad.

"Oh, um, yeah. I saw your post about it and thought why not?" Dean laughed self-consciously. "I won't be offended if you don't let me have the job, Mr. Cas. I'm sure other people have heaps more experience."

They did, but Dean has a proven track record with meeting Castiel's exacting standards.

"Would you be open to a trial period?"

"Really? Oh wow! That would be – that would be _great_!"

"I know you're good with your hands, and you're always a hard worker. I can't see why not."

The more he thought on it, the more sense it made. Thanks to Dean, Castiel had the cleanest pool for a ten-block radius. Other people might only have their pool cleaned every few weeks, but Castiel, who used the pool maybe twice a year, was sure to have his done sometimes four times a week. It just made him feel better for reasons he couldn’t put a finger on.

"Thanks, Mr. Cas. What day do you want me to come?"

"How about Thursday still, but a couple of hours earlier than normal, if you can squeeze me in? I know things can be a little tight with you sometimes."

"I think that should work great. I gotta head off to class now, Mr. Cas. See you Thursday."

Castiel hung up the phone. His mouth was dry and his heart beat erratic. He also was as hard as the wooden chair he was sat on. Lately Castiel had found himself going through lubricant like it was water. Both were just as necessary in Castiel's mind at this point. Without the lube he'd have rubbed himself raw masturbating to the thought of the faceless handyman that tempted his dreams every night.

 _It's just in anticipation of the erotica I am writing this afternoon_ , he told himself firmly. He had a new novel due with his editor by the end of the week and still had half the porn scenes to write. He liked saving them until last though, when all the boring plotty elements were done and dusted.

Writing was his love, but sex scenes were his addiction. He could lose entire hours, days, weeks, just indulging in his own fantasies.

Cas pinned his erection between his stomach and the elastic of his boxers to keep it out of the way as he finished his breakfast. It hurt, but hurt in a way he knew meant he'd get a lot of excellent writing done later. If he didn’t meet his word target, that was when the cock cage came out.

Later that evening, when he finally allowed himself to self pleasure, he came in record time. And as he drifted off to sleep he wondered when he'd started seeing green instead of white stars at the point of bliss.

*******

Thursday arrived at a crawl. At times Castiel was certain the world was teasing him by creating invisible hours to slow down the progress of the week. His novel was coming along well though and he was very pleased with the scene involving cream, edible glitter, and six ice cubes.

His heart, spirit, and (to his small grumble) cock all leapt when the doorbell finally rung at 1 pm.

"Dean," he greeted. "You know you could just use your key, you’re always welcome."

Dean was dressed in his normal khaki shorts, baseball cap on, framing his delicately freckled skin and plump lips.

Dean shuffled in the doorway. "Sorry, I just didn’t want to worry you by invading your space."

"You would never be invading my space, Dean," Cas laughed, stepping back to welcome Dean into the entrance hall. "Shall we discuss what I'd like to do in the garden?"

“Sure.”

"It's mostly the hedges and bushes I need trimmed,” Castiel explained as he gestured to the plants in question. “My old gardener retired and I'm afraid I let it all turn into a mess lately, as you’ve probably noticed. The grass needs a good mowing. A few of the vegetable beds will need to be plowed and seeded deep – but that can wait for now. I have a sit on mower and other tools in the yellow shed. I can take you back there later, show you the ropes."

"I'd like that," Dean beamed up at Castiel. "That is some impressive bush you have there," Dean said as he stroked a hand over the surface, feeling the lush foliage of Castiel’s primroses.

"Think you can tame it?"

Dean examined the plant before him. So healthy, so strong. "No problem. I've been told I’m good at handling awe-inspiring growth, haven’t yet seen something so big it scares me off. I just think of it as a challenge."

"Good, sounds good. Like you know what you’re getting yourself into."

Castiel's steps were shaky as he led Dean to the shed. Blood distribution happened at the most inappropriate moments to him.

"You're familiar with how to use this?" Castiel nodded towards the mower.

"I think I can work it out. Prep it, make sure everything is well oiled, sit down, hope the vibrations don't – um." Dean's face looked flush. He took his cap off and ran a palm over his hair before putting the cap back on.

"Yeah, yeah I got it," he confirmed. “Place I interned at during freshman year spring break taught me how to use it all.”

"Great! And then after, could you can clean the pool like normal? Really get in there, especially around the rim. Where the fallen plant matter hasn’t been cleaned up I’m afraid it might be a little worse than normal."

“I’ll make it all so clean you could eat off it.”

"The safety equipment is on the workbench at the back, be sure you use it."

The workbench that was just the perfect height for bending someone over and going to town, Castiel realized all at once. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought.

"I have to finish a draft of my new novel today, which means I'll be in my study. If something urgent does happen please feel free to call me over the kitchen intercom.”

"Thanks Mr., um, Sir, I mean... Cas,” Dean babbled.

It had taken Castiel a while to train Dean into calling him by his name instead of _sir_ or _master_ as the guy naturally had when he’d first started working for Castiel. But it was effort well rewarded for his name never sounded better than when it came from Dean's lips.

*******

To Castiel’s relief Dean turned out to be competent, efficient, and even artistic when it came to doing yard work.

Castiel’s bushes had never looked so neatly curated. It helped that Castiel had Dean coming back for an hour three times a week just to check out the garden, get in among the weeds and really look hard at the soil. Dean always did so on bent knees, face deep among the plants, ass up in the air. Often he took his shirt off first so the soil didn’t get on that when he delved in.

His time with Dean always felt so natural and Castiel dearly hoped Dean enjoyed the companionship as much as he did himself. If Dean had to work so many odd jobs to support himself through college, Castiel hoped he could at least get a little pleasure out of the time they spent together.

Dean even got on well with Castiel’s grumpy cats, Cuffs and Tickler. The cats hated each other but both seemed to like getting attention from Dean and were prepared to put their differences aside if it meant they could get ear scratches.

It was almost a shame Castiel felt like he was in a position of authority over Dean, or he would try harder to be friends with the younger man. They had plenty in common, especially their love of fiction books. Dean was very well read, which pleased Castiel greatly.

All Dean knew of Castiel’s career from what Castiel had told him was that he’d followed in his father’s footsteps and became an author. Dean didn’t know Castiel often wrote books that were prized most highly for their innovative and boundary-expanding sex scenes. It was probably for the best he didn’t know more, but that didn’t stop Castiel from sometimes trying to gauge Dean’s opinion on different activities while he was debating the batting order for the scene he was about to write.

A couple of weeks before Dean had started doing his yard work too, Castiel had been in a bind trying to decide the sexiest job for his protagonist to have. Castiel’s mind had gone through the mill many times before he’d put the question to Dean.

“Depends on your definition of sexy,” Dean told Castiel philosophically. They had sat down to enjoy a quick snack before Dean had to leave for more classes. That he worked jobs back-to-back between classes was why Castiel had started insisting on feeding him. The guy needed someone to take care of him before he worked himself ragged. Especially now when he was so close to graduating.

Castiel found himself lost a little as he watched Dean lick sugar dust off his fingers.

“I need a character that can be places and have a reason another person would want to invite them into their home without much of a set up.”

Dean licked his lips and went in for a second almond pastry.

“Pizza delivery driver? It’s a cliché for a reason. And unlike the plumber fantasy, the delivery driver isn’t going to cost you a mortgage to call out _and_ they bring food. Double sexy.”

Castiel couldn’t find any fault in that logic (other than to wonder what porn Dean watched where the plumber demanded a call out charge) and soon his character was a pizza delivery guy, with a penchant for sugar-dusted pastries and an oral fixation.

The manuscript had taken twice as long to write since he kept having to stop to deal with not-so-little Cas.

His editor had been very happy with the final manuscript though and the book had finally been published two weeks prior. Just thinking about the book made Castiel think he deserved a treat. He hadn’t ordered takeout pizza in years and it seemed a suitable celebration for the new book’s success.

It was with some surprise that when Castiel opened the door to take receipt of his pizza he realized he knew the delivery driver.

“ _Dean?_ ”

He had the uniform and everything.

Castiel was sure he was going to get a nose bleed.

“Hey, Mr. Cas. Never known you to order pizza before. But easy delivery for me since I already knew where it had to go.”

It took a few moments for Castiel’s brain to kick into gear. He took the box from Dean’s hands.

“I didn’t know you did this as well as all your other jobs.”

Dean shrugged. “Gotta make a living and all that. Bills to pay, books to buy, website subscriptions I need. I get huge tips in this job. Just massive. College town, lots of trust fund babies getting high and hungry on daddy’s dollar.”

“Thats… wow.” Castiel blinked rapidly. “You’re a very hard worker, Dean. I’ve always thought so.”

“You work really hard too, Mr. Cas. You go at it harder than anyone I’ve ever met. Always up in that office of yours, pushing yourself. Anyway, I need to get to my next delivery. See you soon!”

The pizza went uneaten in the end, left cold and still in its box on his kitchen counter. Castiel’s hunger, he'd soon concluded, hadn’t been a desire for food after all.

*******

It was getting ridiculous how much pizza Castiel was ordering. His fridge had enough leftovers to make up another three pizzas at this point.

Each time the door bell rang, there was Dean, in his cute little uniform, waiting to handover the pizza.

Between the deliveries and Dean’s work in Castiel’s yard, Castiel was seeing Dean almost every other day – sometimes more on days he let himself give into temptation.

He thought he might soon grow bored of pizza, but his appetite for it didn’t seem to abate. There was just too much pleasure to be had from the whole process.

“Ya know, you’re my last delivery of the night,” Dean let on one evening seven weeks on. The pizza obsession had died down to twice a week, but only through pure will power and regular yoga sessions.

Castiel's writing output had never been higher since he’d started limiting his pizza deliveries. He suddenly found himself just brimming with ideas.

“So you’re just going to go home after this?”

“Yup.” Dean had a big grin on his face.

“Would you… would you like to come in and share some pizza with me?” Castiel’s skin was tingling.

“Really? That would be pretty awesome.”

Castiel didn’t let out a breath of relief, but it was a close thing.

He gave Dean a soda and they sat on the couch together, both picking up a slice.

“This, this has to be the best pizza yet,” Castiel let Dean know appreciatively. Something about the evening just made every sensation, every taste, every cheesy bite that much better than any he’d had before.

“You know,” Dean started as he chewed his pizza. He took huge bites, Castiel knew already. Dean’s cheeks would squirrel out, almost like Dean just liked the sensation of his mouth being full of something hot and moist. “I’ve got a question for you.”

“Yes?”

“If the pizza man really loves the babysitter, why does he keep slapping his rear like that?”

Castiel was definitely going to get a nosebleed.

He choked on his mouthful of food and only managed to stop when Dean slapped his back, hard.

“What?”

“I didn’t mean to cause offense… I just,” Dean looked nervous. “It’s been on my mind.”

That was a plot from one of Castiel’s books. The last book, in fact. The very same one that Dean had helped Castiel pick the protagonist’s job for.

Dean read his books.

 _Dean read his books_.

Castiel’s brain was letting off sirens while brain cells called out _abandon ship!_

“You read my books?”

“Well, yeah. Was I not supposed to?”

Back-up generators came on one-by-one in Castiel’s brain and slowly he started to process.

“I just… I had no idea.”

Dean had a smudge of tomato sauce on his chin that was begging to be licked off.

“Have you reached the end of the book yet?”

“Yes, multiple times. I read from one of your books nearly every night. _Every. Single. Night._ ”

Dean starred into Castiel’s eyes, into his soul.

“Well, then you know why he does that. It’s them acting out their passion, love, and mutual interested in a visceral way. Both get pleasure from the act, both agreed to the act.”

“I understood that, but I just wasn’t sure about how effective spanking was for… that kind of thing. That people could really, you know, from spanking.”

“Climax?” Castiel supplied.

Dean nodded his head.

_Say it! No, don’t say it! Say itttt this is your chance!_

There was a war going on between Castiel’s id and super-ego.

“I could demonstrate, if you’d like? I’m told I have some skill at spanking.”

His super-ego had been slaughtered and turned into compost.

Dean’s bottom jaw dropped a little. “I… would you be okay with that?”

It didn’t take long for Dean to learn just how okay with it Castiel was.

Dean was naked, as per the scene in the book he’d been referencing. He insisted it was the only way for him to really understand the characters’ motivations. Equally, Castiel was still dressed, but had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbow, just like the pizza guy in the book. Dean was prone over Castiel’s lap, face down, both of them sat on Castiel’s couch for maximum softness. Castiel had considered suggesting they move to his bedroom, but it felt like that was maybe taking things a step further than Dean could be ready for.

It was almost a shame. Castiel had some nice crops in there he practiced with often for writing purposes.

Dean had a nice butt, a good juicy handful with plenty of jiggle. Castiel had taken a moment to stroke it before he started with warm up spanks, just five to each cheek. The way Dean had gasped and panted let Castiel know he was doing right by his boy.

“Do you understand now?” Ten was enough surely to give him a taste? Castiel didn’t want to take things too far.

Dean said nothing. His head was resting on a throw pillow, fists clenched, even his toes clenched.

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice was lower this time. He ran a finger down Dean’s spine, resting his palm on the base of Dean’s spine and enjoyed the sensation of his chest moving as he breathed.

“I...”

“Yes?”

“I need to confess something.”

Dean turned his head to look eye-to-eye with Castiel again. His eyes were flush with tears.

“Whatever it is, Dean, I’m sure we can discuss it and find a way to make it better.”

Castiel just couldn’t contemplate that whatever Dean had done could be awful enough he was moved to tears.

“I’m not really a pizza delivery boy.”

“Oh.” _Wait, what?_

“My friend works for them. I told him if he ever had a delivery to your address to let me know. I’d do the delivery for him and give him 100% of the tip, plus an extra $20.”

Warmth blossomed in Castiel’s chest.

“You did that just to see me?”

He gently stroked the hair off Dean’s face and tucked it behind his ears. Dean’s hair had been so short a year ago when Castiel had first met him. Now it was long enough that it fell into his eyes a little… _oh_.

Just like the protagonist from Castiel’s main book series, _Balls of Glory_. _Huh_.

“That must have cost you a lot recently with all the pizza I’ve been ordering.”

“I hoped… I hoped,” Dean turned and buried his face in the pillow again. “That you kept ordering, I thought might mean something. But you do seem to really enjoy pizza.”

His voice was a little muffled now but Castiel heard every word said and unsaid.

“Thank you for being honest with me, Dean. I appreciate it very much.”

“Will you… will you spank me more?”

“Do you think you deserve to be punished? Do you think you’ve been a bad boy?”

Dean swallowed. “No. I came clean, and I’ve been working so hard for you. I think I’m...”

“Yes?” Castiel encouraged, breathing erratic with excitement.

“I’m a good boy,” Dean squeezed out. “And good boys deserve spanks.”

Castiel’s pinched Dean’s left butt cheek hard, hard enough that Dean hissed in discomfort.

“You don’t get to tell me what you do or do not deserve. You’ve read my work, you know that’s not how it works. And I’d hope you had more sources of information outside of that as well. Thorough and proper preparation.”

Dean started moving his hips against Castiel’s thick, muscular thighs.

“I have… I did the research first. But you always write about these pushy subs.”

Castiel stopped his movement by grabbing either side of Dean’s hips firmly.

“That’s just a fantasy. I like it when people behave well for me.”

“I can do that. I can be good.”

“Even if I don’t let you come?” It was clearly what Dean was angling for.

Dean let out a sudden laugh. “Mr. Cas, just being over your lap like this? You have no idea how many of my fantasies have already been fulfilled. Even if you send me out that door right now, without my clothes, I’d be happy.”

“Are you still willing to do my yard work and clean my pool?” Castiel had to ask, had to be sure of Dean’s motivations.

“Definitely. This can be a one time thing if you want, I’ll never bring it up again.”

 _Except in your mind when you jerked off each night,_ Castiel’s brain supplied.

He was so eager, so warm, so gentle, soft, just… everything Castiel had been thinking about lately.

“I’m not a one-time thing kind of person, Dean,” Castiel let him know, while he gently massaged the back of Dean’s left thigh, and then his right. “I wouldn’t want you seeing someone else either.”

“No one else, Mr. Cas. Just you. Your voice, your hands, your… you’re everything.”

The zip on the front of Castiel’s pants was going to break open from internal pressure soon.

“Pick a color, Dean.”

“Green,” he said without even a moment of hesitation.

“I phrased that badly. I mean, an object that is somewhere between red and pink. Though, it is good to hear you understand that system.” Castiel’s voice was full of pride.

“Um, a red apple?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes?” Dean squeaked, equally confused as he was aroused.

“I’m going to make your buttocks as red as a shiny, red apple. Do you consent to this?”

“Bubblegum pink?” Dean sounded very unsure of himself.

“Changed your mind?”

“...Yes?”

Castiel studied Dean’s backside, trying to decide what he could take. What both of them could take. If their hearts could handle trying this and the potential of things not going well.

He felt pride though that already Dean felt safe communicating with him on the color change.

In the year Dean had been working for him, Dean had come to know Castiel better than any of his neighbors knew him. Probably better than a lot of his friends, and _definitely_ better than his family.

“We’ll start with bubblegum and reassess at that point. If everything goes well, we will then proceed onto apple. You may ask for me to stop at any point, no safe word today, just tell me stop.”

Castiel was explaining his aftercare process when Dean suddenly let out a hiss of breath Castiel could feel his whole body twitch.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dean sounded close to tears again.

“Are you in pain?” Castiel was halfway to a panic, fearing he’d somehow injured Dean already, and not in the manner they’d been discussing. “Can I do anything? What’s the–” Castiel’s brain caught up with the feeling of wetness on the top of his thighs. “Did you just orgasm, Dean?”

Shamefaced and distraught, Dean could only nod his head and refused to look up.

“Sweetheart...” Castiel rearranged them so Dean was now sat on Castiel’s cum-slicked lap. He cradled Dean’s head to his shoulder. “It’s okay, you must have wanted this for a very long time.”

Dean nodded again, still too embarrassed to talk.

“To get off on me discussing aftercare? That takes a special boy.”

Castiel pressed a kiss to the crown of Dean’s head.

Dean whimpered as Castiel massaged Dean’s spent cock.

“I’m still going to spank you.”

“Really?” Dean sounded so hopeful that Castiel’s heart blossomed with joy.

“Definitely,” he reassured Dean. “But only after I fuck you now. And only after you come again. I shouldn’t have missed the warning signs you were so close, I need to study this before we go any further.”

Dean let out a strangled noise. “But Cas, that was, I mean, I won’t, I _can’t,_ not this soon–”

“You can opt out now, or you can trust me.”

Dean clung tighter onto Castiel.

“I do trust you.”

“Well then, please stand so we can go upstairs. I would rather use a bed for this.”

Dean held Castiel’s hand and followed him to the second floor where he spent the rest of the night proving to Dean his trust was well placed.

*******

Castiel’s next book series was all about an errant college boy who seduced the lonely man he sometimes did odd jobs for. The college boy grew up in later books, graduated, went to grad school, and eventually became an English lit assistant professor in his own right, on a tenure track.

“I can suck you off while you do that marking,” Castiel offered over morning coffee.

“I would have finished this last night if you hadn’t suggested we try that new shibari pattern.”

Castiel smiled and took another sip of his coffee.

“Don’t look so proud of yourself,” Dean muttered, not even looking up from his laptop as he continued to go through the essay he was on.

Castiel allowed a small pout. “But you had fun.”

Dean looked up at Castiel, concern dropping onto his face. “Of course I had fun, I’d tell you otherwise. You’ve got no reason to doubt yourself.”

“I don’t,” Castiel huffed. He did. He often did. He worried sometimes that he’d corrupted Dean and Dean had to remind him that being in a happy, healthy relationship, having the career of his dreams, and getting to sleep each night next to a man he loved was never going to be a dictionary definition of corrupted.

“I gotta head out. I regret ever agreeing to teach first period,” Dean said as he shut his laptop lid. “How about I bring pizza back tonight? I know you’re not going to eat much all day with the schedule you’ve set yourself for this new book.”

“Is my favorite pizza boy going to play a visit?”

“I’m not even sure the outfit fits anymore,” Dean grinned. They still had the fake outfit he’d bought all those years ago in a box somewhere.

“Just the cap? I can leave it by the front door.”

Dean kissed Castiel’s head and put his breakfast stuff by the sink. “Deal.”

Castiel finished the rest of his coffee and made a move to put their dishes in the dishwasher when Dean came back through the door.

“Forget something?”

“Yeah, I meant to tell you I had an idea for your next book, based on this dream I had last night.”

“Yes?” Castiel paused, dirty coffee cup in hand, wondering what was so important Dean would come back when he was already running late.

“Very kinky: it’s about two guys who are madly in love and often indulged in a lot of sex. And, get this! They have a shared bank account too. They spend weekends grocery shopping, picking out new towels, arguing over the best color for their new towels, and taking long walks through parks while holding hands.”

Castiel pretended to consider the premise, eyes sparkling with love. “I just don’t think I can write that, Dean. Too kinky, too unbelievable. The audience would never buy into it.”

Dean shrugged. “This is why I’m just the humble lit teacher and you’re the actual writer, I guess.”

“We’ll work on the idea this evening over pizza.” Castiel walked forwards and kissed Dean softly on the lips.

“Definitely. Something more believable then. Twelve inch cocks, St. Andrew’s Cross, and a vat of lube? Maybe someone called Dr. Sexy and his nurse, Thrusto, whose prostate is higher up than normal and requires a simply enormous dick before his itch can be scratched?”

“Sounds like a promising start.”

And it was. Castiel had to do a lot of research to get things _just_ right for the book, but it was ultimately very satisfying for the both of them.

**Author's Note:**

>  _The end!_
> 
> Why so much fluff brain? Why? 
> 
> I attempted to get in a lot more sex but they really just wanted to cuddle *shakes fist* these stubborn boys. 
> 
> Feel free to come say hi on Tumblr! I'm [perfackles](http://www.perfackles.tumblr.com/) for anything Supernatural related. 
> 
> Or my general, fun-filled non-spn account [coconutice22](http://www.coconutice22.tumblr.com/).


End file.
